


Garage Band in G Major

by spacesquidlings



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - University, Alternate universe - making a garage band, Garage Band AU, Gen, Nothing is intentionally romantic and I'm sorry if it comes off that way, One-Shot, Oversound zine, Romelle has a ukulele, They're making a band and they're doing their best, casual alternate universe where everyone is just pals, friends - Freeform, wow this is an excellent tagging system
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 07:38:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17524580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacesquidlings/pseuds/spacesquidlings
Summary: With Romelle always playing her ukulele louder than anyone can think, the only logical thing Allura can possibly do is to start a garage band with her roommate. Although, that means they'll have to enlist other people to join.





	Garage Band in G Major

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this piece for Oversound: A Musical Voltron Zine. It's super rad, and I was super excited to be a part of this free zine that put together two things I love, Voltron and music!!!!! Definitely check it out, there are some wonderful pieces in it!!!!  
> Also I'd like to say thank you to anyone reading this silly little piece I made, I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

Romelle sat in the centre of her rose-coloured quilt, her ukulele cradled in her lap. She strummed a quiet, merry tune, letting the notes dance through the quiet space of her bedroom. She smiled as she plucked out a lilting melody. Pretty, lyrical, like something from a movie soundtrack, where a girl was surrounded by pale pink roses, buttery light from the sun glowing down on her as her true love embraced her.  
She paused, shaking her head. She had to stop reading all of those romance novels, they were going to turn her brain to mush.  
But they were also so much fun to read, and she’d already discarded the thought of abandoning her precious books by the time she’d strummed the next chord.  
She heard a door open and slam shut, followed by shuffling and the rustling of plastic bags. Footsteps, and then Romelle’s door was swinging open as Allura stepped inside. She leaned against the doorway, arms crossed as Romelle continued strumming away at the ukulele. She altered the tune, letting it slip into a minor key, wiggling her eyebrows at Allura.  
“Why’d you change it? It sounded so pretty.”  
“Because a beast approaches.”  
Allura snatched a notebook from Romelle’s desk, chucking it at her. Romelle ducked, squealing as she narrowly avoided getting slapped in the face. “Hey! You could’ve hit me!”  
“That was the point.”  
Snickering, Romelle plucked out the chords for ‘Holding out for a hero.’ Allura smirked as Romelle began singing the lyrics. She grimaced at her own poor melody, silently cursing herself for never being able to carry a tune.  
Allura opened her petal-pink lips, joining in to the song as Romelle strummed, changing the tune as she slid right into ‘I want it that way,’ and a myriad of other songs. Allura ran her hands through her loose curls, her roots freshly dyed a white that seemed to glitter under the cheap fluorescents of the room as she danced to whatever song Romelle began strumming next.  
Romelle’s fingers ached, but she couldn’t stop playing, not even after she let her voice trail off into oblivion, making way for the sweet cadence of Allura’s voice. What Romelle loved was the feeling of the strings under her fingers. She let her own music carry her away as she melded song after song together into a wild amalgamation that left her snickering as Allura tried to keep up. But Allura was laughing too, spinning around Romelle’s room, her hips swaying, before she collapsed onto the bed, knocking pastel blue and pink pillows onto the floor. Romelle glared, but Allura continued grinning, a shining, infectious smile that had Romelle giggling as she tried shoving her friend off the bed.  
She propped her uke against the turquoise pillows behind her, before quickly spinning around, slamming her foot into Allura’s arm. “You have the audacity to come into my room and throw my own notebooks at me and then you knock my pillows from my bed?!” Allura laughed, the sound twining with Romelle’s own bubbling laughter, as she fought to stay safely on the covers.  
“You have forsaken me, Allura!”  
“Romelle, I would never! How could you accuse me of such atrocities?”  
“Traitor!”  
Romelle yanked her stuffed elephant from the corner of her bed, chucking it at Allura. It landed squarely in the middle of her face before plopping into her lap. Allura looked down, dazed, and Romelle used the opening to shove Allura from the bed.  
Allura squeaked as she fell, landing in the centre of the cushioned mess of pillows she’d knocked over. Romelle peered over the edge, smirking. “Anything to say for yourself?”  
Allura looked around at the pillows, then slowly up. “You have so many pillows.”  
“I like the extra support.”  
Allura furrowed her brow, her expression bemused, before hoisting herself back onto the bed. She crossed her legs, tugging the stuffed elephant into her lap. “You know, we sounded quite good there for a moment. I bet we’d sound wonderful if we formed a band.”  
Now it was Romelle’s turn to stare in bemusement. “You mean a two-woman band, with a ukulele and a singer?”  
Allura tapped her chin in thought. “I suppose you’re right.”  
“We could always busk.”  
But Allura only crossed her arms, eyes narrowing as the gears in her mind turned. Romelle could only imagine what was going on in her friend’s mind; Allura was a business major, with a minor in criminology, who was planning to complete a masters in forensics and law.  
By all accounts and purposes, she was probably insane.  
But she was also Romelle’s closest, most trusted friend, and Romelle loved her like she was her sister.  
Allura snapped her fingers, drawing Romelle’s attention. “We could start a garage band! It’s informal, easygoing, and a great way to practise our music.”  
“Sounds great but, we don’t have a garage.”  
Allura waved a hand, dismissing Romelle’s concerns. “I know someone with a garage. We can just borrow his.”  
One phone call and a twenty minute car ride later, Romelle found herself at the circular kitchen table of Allura’s friend, Shiro. He peered at them over the thick rims of his hipster glasses, a steaming mug clutched between his hands. He didn’t flinch as shouting rang out from upstairs, followed by a loud crash. Romelle stared down into the golden depths of the tea he’d poured for her, wondering what on earth the sound could have been. And, more concerning, why he hadn’t reacted to it.  
Shiro leaned back in his chair, his college sweater draping perfectly around his finely muscled body.  
Now that was a man. It almost made her wish she was an artist.  
His mouth quirked to the side, one brow rising as he caught her stare, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Romelle turned her gaze away hastily, quickly lifting the mug to her mouth and taking a large gulp. The liquid burned, and she focused on the heat and the way her tongue was frying, and most certainly not on the way her cheeks were beginning to flame. Or how that feeling was beginning to crawl towards her ears.  
When she lowered the mug gain, Allura and Shiro were smiling, twin looks that had Romelle casting her friend a dark look. Allura’s smirk fell away, but her eyes continued to glitter with impish delight.  
Another thud from upstairs caught Romelle by surprise, and she jumped, tea sloshing over the rim of her mug.  
Shiro’s smile turned soft as she rolled his eyes.“You get used to it.”  
Allura chuckled, taking a sip of her own tea. “I don’t understand how you deal with it, Shiro.”  
“Patience,” he croaked out, staring into the distance, like he was staring into a camera. “Lots of patience.”  
Romelle sat quietly, nursing her tea while Allura and Shiro chatted. She managed to jump into the conversation as it turned to books that Allura insisted Shiro read, and Romelle found herself unable to hold back her own opinions.  
They chatted until their tea was nothing more than cold dregs. It was then that Allura pulled a crisp sheet of paper from her purse, handing it to Shiro. “Now, down to business.”  
Romelle gave her friend a side-eye, although she shouldn’t have been surprised. She was a business student after all. “Is that a proposal?”  
“Yes, for using Shiro’s garage.”  
Shiro’s brows rose higher as his eyes flicked across the sheet. “For your garage band,” he drawled.  
Allura bobbed her head, her hair bouncing like fluffy clouds. “Yes. We won’t use it much, just maybe once a week?”  
“Can I play the keyboard?”  
Romelle’s gaze snapped to Shiro, and the sheepish look he was giving Allura. The tiniest hint of a smile played at the corners of Allura’s lips. Romelle found herself wondering if this wasn’t part of Allura’s plan all along; asking Shiro for his garage, only to recruit him to her band.  
Allura’s smile widening. “I think we would love it if you joined our band, Shiro!”  
Romelle’s side-eye turned into an all out glare as Shiro beamed at both her and Allura like they’d just told him he’d won the lottery. Allura’s smile seemed genuine enough when she looked at Shiro, but it seemed to turn almost serpentine when her eyes met Romelle’s.  
This was starting to seem like less of a spur of the moment thing, and more like a scheme Allura had been working on for months.  
What had those business classes done to her?  
“Did you have any specific music in mind?” Shiro asked, standing to collect everyone’s mugs.  
At that Allura seemed to relax, again becoming Romelle’s friend and not the scheming business student she was most weekdays. “I wasn’t sure.”  
“I thought we would just wing it at first, honestly,” Romelle said. “But that was when I thought there were just the two of us.”  
Shiro shrugged. “I’m fine with -“  
A crash, the loudest one yet, rang through the house. The very walls seemed to reverberate. But Shiro only glared at the ceiling before excusing himself.  
Romelle waited until his footsteps disappeared before spinning in her seat. “So, are you planning on us performing in the battle of the bands?”  
Allura stared in confusion, her brow wrinkling. “What?”  
“I dunno, this seems really thought out. Allura, you had a contract written up.”  
Allura only shrugged, tugging on an ivory curl. “Well it’s something I was practising anyways for one of my classes, and I’ve always wanted to be in a band with my friends.”  
“And you couldn’t make this band with Shiro before?”  
“Well what’s a band with only two people? And you’re excellent with that uke, and he’s a really good pianist. Two incredible musicians, one singer. The numbers work.”  
Romelle quirked a brow, ears straining to make sure she didn’t hear him coming back. “And that’s it?”  
Allura cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean, and that’s it?”  
“You mean him being cute has nothing to do with it?”  
Allura’s eyes narrowed and she leaned forward, her nose crinkling as she smiled. “You think he’s cute?”  
Romelle pulled away as far as she could, her entire body burning as Allura continued to grin with that same mischievous light dancing in her eyes. “Well I - I mean. He’s - he’s classically handsome,” she stammered. Her tongue felt thick, like she couldn’t manage to get any words through.  
This was not how she’d imagined her day going.  
Allura only hummed, leaning back into her own seat. “You are right, he definitely is handsome. But Shiro’s an old friend,” her eyes turned soft, her voice growing sentimental.  
Multiple footsteps rang out before Romelle could ask any more questions. She listened as Shiro argued with someone else. The second voice seemed to rise in pitch, almost cracking as it argued. Something about his dog and training, and the dog having to stay outside if it kept breaking things upstairs. Then feet were stomping away and a door slammed shut.  
A moment later Shiro returned, weariness etched across his face.  
“Is everything alright?” Allura asked, leaning forward.  
Shiro nodded, bracing his hands on the back of a chair. “Yeah, just Cosmo. We’re still having trouble with his training.”  
Romelle didn’t know how to help, didn’t even know who they were talking about. “Who’s Cosmo?”  
“My adopted brother’s dog. He was a rescue, but he wasn’t properly trained.” Shiro rolled his eyes skyward before again settling them on Romelle. “He’s been a bit of a handful for the last few months.”  
Allura stood, planting her hands on her hips. “Well, I think I know something that will help take your mind off it.”  
Romelle quirked a brow, her own bemusement mirrored on Shiro’s face.  
Allura grinned at their confusion. “Why don’t we play some music? If that’s not too much trouble,” she added.  
Shiro only shrugged. “It might be nice to clear my head for a bit. And you two did come all this way.”  
He led them through the house to the inner garage door, flicking on a few lights. Dust motes danced a silent ballet as they were bathed in wan, flickering light. A lone motorcycle was leaning against one wall, and some gardening and mechanical supplies were piled in a corner, but otherwise the garage was empty. Shiro flicked a button and the garage door began to open, creaking as it slowly lifted from the cement ground.  
He shot them an apologetic look. “Sorry. It’s kind of bleak in here if you don’t open the door.”  
Romelle had no problem with it, not as the door revealed the soft little corner of suburbia the house was tucked in. The street was lined with maples, the leaves still clinging to life in shades of fiery red and burnt orange. A few children squealed further down the street, around adorably painted picket fences and flowerbeds still blooming despite how late into the fall they were. The sky above them was a pale blue-grey, almost the same colour as Shiro’s eyes as they caught the sunlight.  
Allura caught her staring and Romelle scowled, her fingers digging in to the neck of her uke.  
“I’ll just be right back,” Shiro said. “I have to go grab the spare keyboard.”  
Romelle and Allura gave him twin thumbs up as he disappeared back into the house. Allura continued to smirk at Romelle, humming quietly.  
“Not a word,” Romelle warned.  
She lifted her uke to her chest, strumming the beginning chords of an old ‘Backstreet Boys’ song. But she’d barely made it through the first chorus when a young man in a blue sweater started waltzing down the street, an alto saxophone clutched between his hands, blaring out the ‘Pink Panther’ theme. Romelle’s fingers stilled as he drew closer, shifting seamlessly into Bolero before beginning to play a song that sounded suspiciously like ABBA’s ‘Dancing Queen.’  
He paused in his playing only when he’d reached the threshold of the garage.  
“Ladies,” he said, slicing a free hand through the air with a flourish. “I couldn’t help but overhear the beautiful chords you were beginning to play. If you’re starting a band, I’d love to audition for the part of saxophone.”  
Romelle shared a look with Allura. “Uh, who is this?”  
The door to the house opened and Shiro stepped out, the keyboard at his side. “Lance, one of Keith’s friends.”  
Romelle turned to him in confusion. “And Keith is your brother?”  
He nodded as he began shuffling down the stairs. Both her and Allura moved to help him carry the keyboard into the centre of the garage.  
“Well, I wouldn’t call us ‘friends,’ exactly.”  
Shiro quirked a brow. “What would you call it then?”  
“Frenemies? Healthy rivalry?”  
“I feel like healthy isn’t the right word, Lance.”  
Romelle spun around at the sound of a new voice, her eyes landing on two newcomers. The shorter of the two adjusted her glasses, the light glinting off the lenses as she grinned at Lance.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Lance snapped, his voice cracking as he stepped forward.  
The girl only shrugged. “That you have an unhealthy obsession.”  
“Well he thinks he’s better than me.”  
“At least I don’t crash the car during driving lessons,” a new voice retorted. Another young many appeared, arms crossed as he glared at Lance. Messy black bangs fell across his forehead and he shoved them aside.  
That one must have been Keith, then.  
Lance looked like he was seething, one step away from snapping at Keith. Shiro made to step forward, but it was the other newcomer that beat him to it, stepping between the two and holding up a pair of drumsticks and a guitar. “Hey, hey, we didn’t come here for any fights.”  
The girl rocked back on her heels. “Today anyways.”  
The boy frowned, lifting the instruments higher. “Keith told us you were making a garage band, Shiro, and we wanted to know if you’d let us join.”  
Romelle peered at Allura suspiciously. “Was this your doing to?”  
But Allura’s eyes were sparkling as she clasped her hands together. “No, but what a delightful surprise!”  
Romelle quickly got to know the others as she helped wheel out the drum-set buried in one of their basements. The short one, Pidge, said that she’d picked up the drums to annoy her brother in the mornings, but it had turned into something she loved. The other one, Hunk, mentioned how he just liked playing the bass sometimes, enjoyed the smooth, low harmonies he could pluck out on the strings.  
Romelle fiddled with her uke, barely noticing as Allura sidled up next to her. “So what do you think? Are we battle of the bands material?”  
Romelle strummed a few chords, her gaze skipping over all the new people she’d met, as Lance began playing a few jazzy notes. “I think we’re about to find out.”  
Allura smiled broadly. “Well then. Shall we play?”

***

At first, they sounded awful. Almost nails-on-a-chalkboard awful as they all tried to keep up with one another, and Lance kept switching songs in the middle of choruses. Pidge managed to kick him in the shins, stopping him from anymore impromptu song shifts.  
But then they started playing a little more, and they began to fall into sync. They played songs they all knew, and sometimes just a medley of notes all winding together in a harmony that seemed to dance through the air. Romelle couldn’t help the smile shining from her lips, not as she laughed while Allura belted out peppy lyrics, fighting to be louder than Lance as his saxophone began shrieking. As Hunk riffed on his bass, Pidge carrying they’re madness with her drum-kit. As Shiro played expert, intricate chords. As Romelle’s small uke lilted along with Allura’s voice as they carried the melody of whatever song they played next.  
It was almost like magic.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like what you see, check out my tumblr at spacesquidlings.tumblr.com!!!!!


End file.
